This purpose of this project is to commemorate and honor lost womyn's space--both ancient and modern. This can mean anything from lost women's colleges and schools, to lesbian bars and clubs. And everything sacred and profane in between.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Green Street Rooming HouseLocation: 66 Green Street, Northampton, Massachusetts, USAOpened: 1975Closed: 1992From the Five College Archive & Manuscript Collections: The Green Street Rooming House was a lesbian cooperative started in the Elmhurst apartment house at 66 Green St in Northampton, Massachusetts. It operated from circa 1975 to 1992. From the 1960's on, Northampton had become a haven for lesbian and feminist activity. Some residents of the boarding house were students at the five colleges, and others were lesbians coming out of the closet seeking freedom to express their sexuality. The rooming house was established as a lesbian-only residence with a designated live-in manager who functioned as a liaison between the residents and the landlord. The house operated in a cooperative spirit by rotating cleaning chores and sharing in the preparation of meals. A notebook was always kept in the central hallway for residents to write messages to each other. The owner and landlord, Michael Cohen and his assistant manager John Knowles, provided basic house supplies, such as toilet paper, soap, light bulbs and cleaning products and also authorized maintenance for heat, electric and plumbing. Initially, the landlord was not told that the current lesbian tenants were starting a lesbian-only household. Eventually, he found out and thought it amusing that a group of women wanted to maintain a cooperative community in a rooming house. In 1992 the building was sold to Housing and Economic Resources for Women and it eventually became a co-ed rooming house. In 2007 it was bought by Smith College and was torn down in 2013.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Isis is yet another lesbian bar that, unfortunately, is probably best remembered for a violent crime against lesbians. Back in June 1982, two lesbians were abducted at gunpoint from a nearby parking lot. One woman, Mary Ann Finegan, was shot to death. The other, who prefers to remain unnamed, was raped, shot, and left for dead after witnessing Mary Ann's murder.It would not be until 2010--28 long years later--that the killer was brought to justice. Yet another reminder as to why we should suspect the motives of men who hang around womyn's spaces. From Gay People's Chronicle:

Isis was a popular bar at 1400 West 6th Street near the corner of Frankfort Avenue, “for the contemporary woman,” according to a July, 1982 ad in the gay monthly High Gear. It was known to women in Cleveland and Akron, where Finegan lived with her four dogs in nearby Barberton. Isis closed in 1989, and the space has since been home to a variety of businesses, though none gay or lesbian. It is now Crop Bistro and Bar.“Mary Ann and I had broken up the week before and had no plans to meet up with each other that night,” continued the survivor, now 66, who asked that her name not be printed.“We got to the bar around 9:30 or 10 pm,” said the friend who joined her for dinner that evening, who also asked that her name be kept private. She has helped care for the survivor and been a companion to her for almost three decades, and remains protective of her. “It was a nice evening. We parked the car and sat in the parking lot talking for awhile.”Later, the friends noticed Mary Ann’s pickup truck and saw her walk toward the bar. “I knew she was probably looking for me,” the survivor recalled. She left her purse in her friend’s car and went to talk to ‘Finy’ while her dinner companion went inside the bar. “We all called Mary Ann ‘Finy,’ ” she noted.The two walked to Finegan’s truck and got in. “Mary Ann was a great listener but she had a hard time expressing herself.” That night, she seemed kind of upset, like she needed to talk. They talked for a while and Finegan started the truck to move to a parking spot closer to the bar, according to early police reports of the incident. Before she could park, a man suddenly opened the passenger door, put a gun against the survivor’s chest while climbing in and told Finegan to drive “or I’ll kill her.”

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Park View GrillLocation: Carolina Beach Road, Wilmington, North Carolina, USAOpened/Closed: c. 1990The only Internet references I can find for the Park View Grill are all related to the murder of a lesbian by a man she met while playing pool there. Sometimes women need to be reminded as to why we need safe women-only spaces. And we need to seriously question the motives of why men want to go to these (very few remaining) spaces. We need to keep our eyes wide open, as too many women are way too naïve and trusting. They fail to even speculate why these women-hating, lesbian-obsessed little sh**s want to "hang out" with us. And women are dying as a result. In this particular case, I would suggest NOT looking up the details of the crime. It was a typical sociopathic/sadistic over-kill in the worst way. From Q Notes:

WILMINGTON, N.C. — Eighteen years ago, Talana Kreeger was brutally sexually assaulted and murdered in a vicious hate crime here. The painful memory of that tragic event has been held in silence in this Coastal community — until now.Community members gathered into a packed sanctuary at St. Jude’s Metropolitan Community Church on Feb. 22 to remember and celebrate Kreeger’s life. They came to express the need to answer the questions of why Talana Kreeger was murdered and why the community had been silent about such a brutal and passionate crime of hate.Kreeger, 32, was murdered by truck driver Ronald Sheldon Thomas on Feb. 22, 1990, after leaving Park View Grill, a lesbian establishment, where they drank and played pool. Kreeger was remembered as fun-loving, loved and free-spirited.The memorial service allowed community members to express the need to start the process of healing within the gay community and come together to fight for stronger hate crime legislation in North Carolina and nationwide.The gathering was organized by Tab Ballis, director of “Park View,” a documentary-in-progress about Kreeger’s murder. He hoped the memorial would provide healing for individuals who knew her personally. Film clips of “Park View” were shown between speakers including Kristen Dempsey, Lynette Miller, Frank Harr, Ken Cox, Scott Whisnant and state Rep. Pricey Harrison (D-Guilford).Miller, Kreeger’s friend, told the audience how Talana freed spiders when she encountered them and wanted to let them live instead of killing them. Miller emphasized that Kreeger was a lover of all animals and a generous and giving friend to anyone who knew her.The Rev. Amanda McCullough led the lamentation and prayer for affirmation in hope that the community would continue to honor Kreeger’s life as well as the dedication of a memorial plaque to be placed at St. Jude’s.The church is also is establishing a memorial fund in honor of Kreeger and other victims of hate crimes. Money specifically donated to the Talana Kreeger Memorial Fund will be used to establish a special prayer garden.

Ronald Sheldon Thomas

Various speakers from the community also related their stories and thoughts, including local lesbian author Cheryl Cushine, gay leader and activist Bo Dean, Director of the Rape Crisis Center Amy Feath and New Hanover County District Attorney Ben David.Dean expressed passionately the need for the gay community to address its internal divisions, and urged everyone to come together and unite in the fight against hatred. Laura McClain, a local lesbian singer/songwriter who is also an associate producer and music director for “Park View,” performed selected songs including “We are a Gentle Angry People” and “Left for Dead” — written in Kreeger’s memory.

Thisarticlegives a few more details, though it's pretty circumspect about the lesbian angle to this crime. Not even the owner seemed to suspect why this guy, basically a drifter, was hanging around all night:

It was about 1:30 a.m., on Thursday, Feb. 22, 1990, almost closing time at the Park View Grill, a bar on Carolina Beach Road.

The owner, Wanda Whitley, and her roommate, Heidi Crossley, were shooting pool in the back room. With them were Talana Quay Kreeger, a carpenter who had been doing some remodeling on the Park View, and Ronald Sheldon Thomas, a long-haul trucker who had pulled in a few hours and about 10 beers earlier.

The foursome discussed heading to a nearby Hardee's for something to eat. Kreeger, 32, hitched a ride in Thomas' tractor-trailer rig.

The Harriet Tubman Leadership Academy for Young Women is the only all girls public school in Portland, Oregon serving grades 6 through 12. It has a focus on math, science and leadership-areas where women are grossly underrepresented.

And now it's gone.

Can't help but see this within the context of the overall destruction of womyn's spaces, whether it's a college or a bar. Given that schools that serve young women of color and help them "find their voice" are especially rare, the loss of the Harriet Tubman Academy is especially sad. I wonder if the same "queer women" who cheered the destruction of Portland's last lesbian bar also see this closing as a good thing?

As Shea Turner marched through the halls of the Harriet Tubman Leadership Academy for Young Women in her yellow cap and gown, the recent graduate couldn't help but smile.

Girls protesting the closing of
Harriet Tubman (April 2012)

Throngs of her classmates had lined up along the lockers on the last day of school to cheer on Turner and three other graduates, before joining the four in a parade to the auditorium.

But even with the fanfare, Turner, 17, found herself in a somber mood. The ceremony just reminded her that the 163-student building, the only all-girls public school in Oregon, is shutting down for good.

"It's a family," Turner said. "You're leaving your family behind."

The school, which served sixth through 12th grades and focused on science, technology, engineering and mathematics classes, has long had a presence in the city's African-American community. Tubman originally began as a neighborhood middle school, and moved to the current North Flint building in 1985. After that school closed, the young women's academy got its start five years ago as a place for girls to focus on academics in a small setting without distractions like boys and cliques.

Despite community opposition, the Portland School Board confirmed in April that Tubman and Humboldt, another North Portland school, would be closed because their low enrollments would be difficult to sustain.

Those who fought to keep the school say the district will be losing an irreplaceable program. The small enrollment helped build community, students say, and single-sex education helped girls feel more comfortable in their skin.

At Tubman, Turner said, girls grew into themselves. "Every girl I know found her voice here."

Allie Beard, 16, was just barely passing classes in middle school before she ended up in the program for ninth grade. As Beard transitioned into a foster home, Tubman became a place of family and stability: teachers went to her roller derby bouts, and she didn't worry about being judged.

"I wasn't dreading coming into school each day," she said.

On Wednesday, the girls took their seats at 10 pink lunch tables in the auditorium to celebrate the last day. They listened to speeches from Superintendent Carole Smith and former Tubman Middle School Principal Paul Coakley, and they whooped approvingly for friends as they were given awards.

By the time students settled into lunch, Medha and Shradha Pulla, both 16, had kept on their caps and gowns. The reality of the situation had not yet sunk in, said Medha.

She'll be attending Portland State University with her sister next year and credits Tubman's access to advanced classes for their early graduation. The Pullas and their mother, Jyothi Pulla, were some of the loudest voices asking the district to keep the school open.

Medha said she hoped a community could still come together and bring back the program in some way -- some parents are even considering proposing a charter or alternative school.

In the end, she said, Tubman would still be a part of her classmates even if they leave.

"They've gained something here that can't be taken away from them," Pulla said, then turned to hug a classmate goodbye.

Two weeks after the school closed, students did a Silent Protest at the school board.

Aubervilliers, an outer suburb in the north-east of Paris, is the sort of place that lacks the photogenic appeal that one usually associates with the capital. It’s part of a newer city, of the sort that doesn’t make it into the tourist brochures. Almost 40 per cent of its population was born outside France; 1,000 of its housing units were built on a former “quasi-slum” in the 1970s. In other words, Aubervilliers is a place that one lives in rather than visits (at least, unless you’re an over-zealous Arsenal fans: it’s also the hometown of midfielder Abou Diaby). Though it doesn't quite have central Paris’s bijou-bijou cafés, its main streets have a selection of identikit café-bars of the sort one finds throughout France, where gentlemen start sipping cognac from roughly 11am onwards.

In April 2011, Monique, a retired teacher, was looking for one such café on her way home, where she could sit on the terrace with a coffee and enjoy the sunshine. But she felt unwelcome in every one that she passed. “I realized that every single terrace that I passed only had men there, who looked at me as if I didn’t belong there. I couldn’t bear it.”

Feeling uncomfortable entering any one of these cafés alone, Monique went home and sent a round-robin email to her friends, asking for their support. The result was the establishment of “A Place for Women”, a collective which has some fifty-odd members aged between 20 and 60. Once a month, its members meet in a café or bar, wearing spotted scarves as a kind of collective-wide uniform, and take up a corner of the café. Monique described their first visit: “We came in two by two, snacking on the terrace, taking chair after chair until our group took up a good half of the space.”Maguy, an author, adds: “I could see the men around us looking at us out of the corner of their eyes: youths and groups of dealers leaning against the wall. Cars stopped outside the café to look in – even the police dropped by a couple of times. But we weren’t afraid, and we became the talk of the town.”In Aubervilliers, as in many working-class immigrant areas, these kinds of all-male spaces abound. And, while women may not be explicitly forbidden from being there, they often feel ill at ease if there are no other women present. For Nadia, a member of the group originally from Morocco, it is an impossibility: “For a woman of my age to have a coffee surrounded only by men would be shameful.” Going into a space with an exclusively male clientele often provokes jeering or unpleasant comments: at best, women expect silent reprobation or censorious – even aggressive – looks. Over three years later, the collective has visited more than thirty cafés in the area. Some, like the Roi du Café, now regularly receive female visitors, and display yellow stickers in their window, given to them by the group. They read: “Here, women can feel at home.”For women elsewhere in France, however – in Marseille, Paris, Toulouse and Bordeaux – there are few public spaces other than cafés or bars in which they can really feel welcome. In municipally sponsored parks or recreational spaces, ostensibly for “young people”, funding is more likely to go to activities that attract boys, such as skateboarding or football. Those that appeal to girls – dancing or gymnastics, for instance – get a relatively small slice of the pie. The spending inequalities are often justified by a need to channel youth violence into positive activities: “youth violence” is used as code for the “problem” of teenage boys. And there’s nothing to actively prevent girls from going to these places. Nonetheless, many feel unsafe, or at least ill-at-ease, in them. The outcome is that there are whole parks where, like the cafés of Aubervilliers, girls and women feel unwelcome. This is particularly problematic for those in lower-income brackets, who may not be able to afford going to leisure places which are not free to visit. This trend begins with funding for youth activities, but it persists throughout all the leisure programs organized by municipal bodies: even recreational spending for the elderly goes on petanque (a form of boules), in which women are not regular participants. The people making these decisions – elected officials, municipal employees, or neighbourhood watch groups – are overwhelmingly male. Why does this matter? A Place for Women founder Monique says feeling unsafe in a café is simply the tip of the iceberg: French cities that are built for men and run by men are being engineered to support men. For women, this means a municipal environment in which public spending actively encourages men to take ownership of public spaces. It pushes women out – and makes them feel out-of-place in the cities they call their homes.